Even though a completely barefoot lifestyle is preferred, I cannot claim to be as hardcore as DD. I suffer from sore feet on occasion and have been known to keep a pair of flip flops handy.
Picture the scene! The egg laying committee have forgotten that their home has been relocated up the garden. In an absence of comfy beds they opt to sleep perched on the ladder located next to the back door. So we decide carrying them to bed is the only option. Unfortunately this involves walking through the slurry the rain and chooks have made of the garden path. DD has made the majority of it shiny and clean but some still resembles the Somme. Not wishing to brave the duck faeces between the toes experience, DD decides that my flip flops are the answer.
I would like you all now to imagine the spectacle. DD limping down the Somme like path with sleepy, yet outraged chickens in his arms. Then the inevitable happens. The flip flop toe post gives way. (he is size 11, I am size 5. I wonder why this happened) Cue Quasi Modoesque limping and groaning in the twilight, with stroppy flapping chooks under arms. The neighbours must love us :)
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